


Opposites Attract

by kingsofeverything



Series: Tiny Penis Fics [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bartender Louis Tomlinson, Blow Jobs, Chef Harry Styles, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Insecure Harry Styles, Insecure Louis Tomlinson, M/M, Micropenis, Penis Size, Restaurant Owner Harry Styles, Size Difference, Size Kink, Small Penis, Smut, Sort Of, Tiny penis, Unnecessarily Large Penis, Waiter Niall Horan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22686307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsofeverything/pseuds/kingsofeverything
Summary: Harry has a list of reasons he and Louis shouldn’t date. Maybe they’re more compatible than he thinks.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: Tiny Penis Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1015569
Comments: 51
Kudos: 392





	Opposites Attract

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiiiiiiii! Thanks to Nic for being awesome and for betaing!
> 
> **If you’d like to translate any of my fics, feel free, but please post the translation on ao3.**
> 
>   
> **Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites.**  
> 

8=•

“You two should just fuck already. Get it over with,” Niall says, looking from Harry to Louis and back again. 

“Niall!” Harry feels like his eyes might actuallypop right out of his head. True, he and Louis were flirting. Again. Almost like a tennis match this time, with how quickly they were bantering back and forth. He can’t control it. He’s tried. But no one’s ever so blatantly called them out on it before. When it was just jokes and innuendo, he could almost excuse it. Suddenly, he feels like he’s been leading Louis on. Or worse: sexually harassing him. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Niall apologizes, before Harry can properly reprimand him. “That was really inappropriate. Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Niall,” Louis says, winking at Harry before resting his hands on either side of the service bar and leaning into Niall’s space. “Didn’t realize I was making you jealous. Promise to pay more attention to you, okay?”

Niall rolls his eyes and picks up his tray of martinis. As soon as he walks away from the service bar, Louis wipes it down, and Harry turns back to the work he’s supposed to be doing. 

“I, um…” Clearing his throat, Harry tries to keep his voice clear and professional. “I apologize for flirting with you, Louis. It’s completely inappropriate. I’m your boss and—”

“Harry, _I’m_ sorry. I know I tend to flirt a lot, and it’s…” An order prints up and Louis grabs the ticket, starting on the drinks while he talks. “We’re friends, yeah?”

“I mean, I’m your boss, Louis.”

“So?” Louis raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re allowed friends, aren’t you?”

“I guess…” Harry sighs. It’s not like he even has time for friends. He wouldn’t see Zayn and Liam at all if they didn’t come into the restaurant twice a week. 

“You work too much,” Louis says, as if Harry has a choice in the matter. “Before you tell me you don’t have a choice, I’m not saying work less. I’m just saying… It’s a true statement.”

Harry nods. “I know. I’ve been better about it lately. Haven’t slept here in months.”

“The fact that you think that going home dead tired to pass out on your couch after working an eighteen-hour day is better than sleeping in a booth in your restaurant because you’re too exhausted to drive home after working an eighteen-hour day is part of the problem.”

Harry huffs. He knows Louis is right, but he doesn’t want to hear it said out loud. “I can’t take time off now. We’ve got holiday parties lined up and the restaurant’s anniversary in January and the reservations for Valentine's Day are already coming in.”

“What about Mondays?” Louis asks. “You said you were thinking about closing on Mondays since it’s usually so slow.” 

“Well, we ended up booking a lot of holiday parties on Mondays, so…”

“In January then?”

“I don’t know, Louis,” Harry snaps, feeling awful the second he says it, though he can’t wipe the scowl off his face. 

“Right. Sorry,” Louis says, sliding back the top of the ice bin. “I’m gonna go get some ice, so…” He spins around and pushes through the swinging door into the kitchen and Harry’s shoulders slump. 

“Harry, can you get me that beer?” Niall asks, pointing to the order that’s printing as he speaks. 

He’ll have to apologize to Louis later, but there are customers coming in and reservations on the books and he’s working the grill tonight because Carl called in sick again. Harry ties an apron around his waist, makes the next drink order, and when Louis returns with the ice bucket, Harry disappears into the kitchen without saying a word. 

The night flies by, as Saturdays tend to do, and the next thing Harry knows he’s cleaning the grill and wiping the sweat from his brow. It’s still hours later when he finally gets to sit down and even then it’s to do paperwork. But it looks like he might get out of there before one o’clock, which is pretty early all things considered. 

“Hey,” Louis says, leaning in through the office door, but not stepping inside. “Do you want me to cash out the servers? They’re all waiting…” 

“Shit.” Searching the top of his desk for his adding machine, Harry comes up empty handed. 

“It’s on the shelf,” Louis says. Harry spins his chair around, grabbing the adding machine and, after a moment's hesitation, holding it out for Louis to take. 

“Thank you. I’m just swamped.” Harry glances back down at the order for the butcher, then up at Louis again. “Listen, um… about earlier…”

“It’s okay, Harry. I overstepped,” Louis says with an easy shrug. 

“Maybe, but I was rude and I’m sorry. About the flirting too, I—”

“Does it bother you that I flirt with you?” Louis asks, and Harry blinks rapidly, watching him move further into the room. 

“I…”

“What I mean is, if it bothers you… If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

“Nothing can happen, Louis,” Harry says with all of the conviction he can muster. “I’m your boss.” 

“Ehh…” Louis purses his lips and narrows his eyes. “I’m older than you.”

“So?”

“Exactly,” Louis says with a quick nod.

“That… You didn’t make any kind of point there, Louis.” Harry exhales, puffing out his cheeks. His right shoulder is tight and sore and he wishes he could take a hot bath, but if he does that when he finally gets home, he stands the risk of falling asleep in the tub and drowning. He squeezes the top of his shoulder and tries to relax. “The point is that me flirting with you is inappropriate because this is my restaurant and you work for me.”

“Right,” Louis slowly says, though he doesn’t sound like he actually agrees. He takes another step and then another, closer to the desk until Harry has to look up to meet his eyes. Either that or continue staring at Louis’ crotch which is now eye level. “But am _I_ allowed to flirt with _you?_ Because, I mean, I kind of flirt with everyone. Part of the job and all. And like, I _like_ flirting with you.”

Tipping his chin up, Harry swallows nervously and Louis’ eyes track the movement. The last thing he wants is for Louis to pay him any less attention. Sometimes, it’s the only thing that gets him through the day. “You, um… You _can._ But it can’t… It can’t go anywhere.”

Humming, Louis rolls his lips between his teeth. He pops his hip to the side and rests his hand in the dip of his waist, observing Harry long enough to force a flush to crawl up his neck. When Harry is certain his entire face is pink, Louis says, “Don’t lock me in the restaurant when you leave tonight.”

“It was one time! I thought you’d left.”

_“If_ I leave before you, I come and find you to tell you. Don’t I?” Louis bats his eyelashes. “Don’t I?”

“Yeah, you do. Sorry, I—”

“Do you actually want to sleep at table two? Because I’ll get some extra table cloths,” Louis says. 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Fine. Go. Thank you, um… for…” he points at the adding machine, but he means everything else too and he hopes Louis understands. 

It was always Harry’s dream to own his own restaurant and he does love it — he wouldn’t do it otherwise. His personal life wasn’t fabulous before, but since opening the restaurant, he hasn’t even thought about dating. And he knows it’s completely selfish, but he can’t afford to lose Louis. It’s why he pays him more than he should and lets him set his own schedule. He really doesn’t want to have to hire and train another bartender. So he absolutely can not sleep with Louis. 

At thirty-five years old, Harry’s dated a grand total of two guys who could… handlehim in the bedroom. Both relationships fizzled out for other reasons. He doesn’t get naked for just anyone, though it’s his preferred state when he’s home alone. And he likes to get to know someone before getting physical with them. But it never works out after they take that step. 

Chances are, it wouldn’t work out with Louis. Based on Harry’s history, Louis would fuck him, maybe even more than once, but soon enough he’d break things off. And then Harry would be brokenhearted _and_ stuck without a bartender. 

Since he interviewed Louis for the bartender job nine months ago, Harry’s been half in love with him. Two minutes in, Harry knew he shouldn’t hire him. He was too pretty, too perfect, and too distracting. All Harry remembers of the interview is Louis’ hands dancing as he talked, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and the glint of light on the auburn of his beard. He doesn’t remember speaking at all. Even then he couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing him. He hired him on the spot.

And afterwards, he got to watch him walk away. He felt horrible about it — like a lecherous old man, even though Louis is two years older — but he didn’t stop looking. 

8=•

Holiday parties blur together. Harry belatedly realizes he won’t be able to go home for Christmas. While the restaurant is closed that week, he has far too much to do to take the time to travel. And even if he did, he’d be anxious and worried about the restaurant the whole time anyway. His mom takes the news as well as he imagined she would and his sister — always levelheaded — sends him a Santa emoji and the middle finger emoji before telling him he’s going to work himself into an early grave. She follows that up with a ghost emoji and the words “I love you. Take care of yourself.” 

Harry spends the entire week in bed with the flu. He feels so absolutely wretched on Christmas Eve that when Louis texts him late that night and tells him he needs to wish him happy birthday, Harry bursts into tears. Crying only exacerbates his congestion and the ache in his ribs. Since he’s finally fever free, he forces himself out of bed to shower for the first time in days. The steam helps. His peppermint soap helps too. But he’s still sniffling when he carefully steps out of the shower. 

While he knew Louis was born on Christmas Eve, he somehow pushed that knowledge aside and forgot to give him the magnum of wine that he gives all the employees on their birthdays. He feels like such a shitty person, a shitty boss, and like he doesn’t deserve to be called Louis’ friend. Maybe it’s the flu talking. 

Harry gathers the strength to change his sheets, and after he’s sprawled out on his stomach, naked and clean, he peeks his head out from under the blankets and replies to Louis’ text. Texts. While Harry was showering, Louis sent him two more. Another one apologizing for the first, in case he’s sleeping, and one yelling at him in all caps to go home in case he’s found a way to work on Christmas. 

Chewing on his lower lip, Harry types and deletes a hundred times before finally just telling Louis that he’s not working because he’s in bed, sick with the flu. He sends Louis a cake emoji and tells him he’s sorry for forgetting his birthday. His phone screen dims and locks and he falls asleep again. 

8=•

The anniversary of the restaurant’s opening day is a Sunday in January, right before the first Monday that they’ll be closed. Nothing special on the outside, just a day like any other, but it’s a milestone for Harry. One year in business. And still afloat, when so many restaurants close their doors during that first year of operation. Niall congratulates him, because of course he remembers. It’s his one year anniversary too. 

When the last few dishwashers leave for the night, Harry locks up the back of the restaurant, then goes out to the dining room. On the bar is a slice of the lemon pie they were serving all night. With a single, unlit candle in the middle. 

He checks the door first, making sure all of the locks are in place and that the open sign is turned off, before closing the blinds on each window. 

“Happy anniversary,” Louis says, and Harry jumps, spinning around. 

“Uh… Thanks.” 

“One year is a big deal. So, like… congrats.” Tipping his head towards the bar, Louis says, “Anniversary pie? We sold all of the carrot cake tonight.”

“I know, um… Yeah. Thanks.” Harry lifts his fork, trying to keep his hand from trembling.

“Wait!” Louis wraps his fingers around Harry’s wrist and Harry inhales sharply, stilling completely. “You have to light the candle.”

“It’s not my birthday, Louis,” Harry says, but he sets the fork down, taking a few calming breaths while Louis circles around behind the bar. 

“Happy birthday to your restaurant baby, then.” Louis lights the candle and Harry watches the flame flicker for a few seconds before closing his eyes and blowing it out. He blinks his eyes open at Louis’ voice. “What’d you wish for?”

Harry shakes his head and picks up his fork. The pie is delicious, of course. When Louis finishes behind the bar, he comes around to the front and pulls all of the stools out of the way, sweeping up. 

“Did you…” Harry turns on his stool to face Louis and asks, “Did you want to try the pie?” Louis smiles at the offer, stepping closer to Harry’s stool and raising his eyebrows.

Holding a broom in one hand and a dustpan in the other, Louis shrugs and says, “Feed me.”

Harry snorts. “Feed yourself.”

Wrinkling his nose, Louis shakes his head. Then he leans closer and opens his mouth. 

“Louis,” Harry says, attempting to sound firm and serious, though to his own ears it comes out far too whiny. 

Again, Louis holds the broom and dustpan up between them. “My hands are full.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Harry says, turning back to his work. Though, really, he’s done enough for the day. When there’s a tiny bit of pie left, he leaves it, and when Louis comes back from putting the broom and dustpan away, Harry says, “You can have the last bite.” 

“Okay. Thanks.” Louis nods, pressing his lips together. He rests against the edge of the bar, right beside Harry's stool, but instead of eating it, he pushes the pie around the plate with the fork. Harry watches him, gaze flickering from the plate up to Louis’ face. Tired, but beautiful, bright blue eyes look back at him and Louis says, “What are you doing to celebrate your one year?” 

“You’re looking at it,” Harry responds, staring at the plate in front of him, at his leftover pie, and wondering if he should’ve lied. “I mean, I might have a glass of wine at home.”

Louis spears the last bite of pie with the fork, slowly bringing it to his mouth. Harry would swoon if he wasn’t sitting down. Louis swallows and says, “Wanted to give you something. Like a present, sort of.”

Harry frowns. “What?” he asks, fully prepared to refuse the gift. 

“Can you do me a favor?” Louis asks, and when Harry nods, he says, “Okay. Just… Hold out your hand.”

Harry drops one foot from the bottom rung of the stool and swings himself around to face Louis, holding his hand out, palm up. Gaze steady, Louis lifts his own chin; Harry does the same, tipping his head back, and tightening his grip on the stool to steady himself. 

When Louis reaches into his pocket, Harry closes his eyes for good measure, and Louis huffs quietly. His smile is audible. Harry sucks his lower lip into his mouth, waiting. Something small is placed in his hand, and Harry opens his eyes: a chocolate kiss. 

“It’s, um… redeemable _._ I…” Louis takes a deep breath and his words tumble out on top of each other. “I really like you, Harry. I want you to let me take you out, like, on a date. And more, hopefully. Like more dates. Multiple dates.”

“I can’t…” Harry reaches up, dragging his thumb across his bottom lip, pinching it. He closes his eyes when Louis raises his eyebrows. Of course he knows that Louis is attracted to him physically, but he didn’t think there was more to it than that. 

“Can you, um… Okay, so... that’s cool. And, um... I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“You didn’t,” Harry says quickly, blinking his eyes open. He finds Louis watching him, eyes roaming over his flushed face. But Louis’ cheeks are pink and his gaze darts away before he looks back, locking eyes with Harry. 

“Can I ask… Is it just that I work for you? Would it change things if I found a replacement bartender?”

“I can't replace you, Louis,” Harry spits out. He doesn’t mean to be harsh, but Louis can’t quit. Harry would be miserable. “It’s not… It’s not justthat.” 

“But that’s part of it?” 

Harry shrugs. “I’d rather have you here as a bartender than… than not have you at all.”

“But… Why are those your only options?” 

“I…” Harry looks down at his lap. “Chances are that, um… things wouldn’t work out.”

Louis stares at him, unblinking, for so long that Harry has to look away. “Do you know something I don’t? Can you see the future?” Harry shakes his head, still not meeting Louis’ gaze. The second he does, Louis says, “I spend more time with you than with anyone else.”

“Wha— What?” 

“I schedule myself so I’m here on the slow nights when you sit up at the bar and work,” Louis says plainly and quickly. Words aren’t really making sense to Harry’s ears. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, so he closes it again. “I haven’t been on a date in months. I… I gave you that candy ’cause I thought I could like, force myself to tell you, um… my… how I feel? But to be honest, I didn’t think I’d go through with it, so I’m struggling here for, um… words.”

Harry snorts, covering his mouth much too late. He asks, “You didn’t think you’d go through with it?”

“Yeah, um…” Louis grins and says, “I figured I’d chicken out today, but I knew I had your birthday next week, and then Valentine’s Day after that as like, backup plans. Extra chances.”

“You’re serious,” Harry says, as he realizes it’s true. Somehow Louis has feelings for him and Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“I am,” Louis states, and it means more than any two words should. He smiles and the corners of his eyes crinkle. Harry wants to touch them — gently swipe the edge of his thumb over them — and envisions a world in which that’s a possibility. He thinks about what he needs to say. Because there’s no moving past it for him. He has to know. 

“What would you do if we were just really incompatible, um… in the bedroom?” 

“You—” Louis shakes his head, giggling quietly into his hand. He seems to understand that Harry’s serious though because he takes a breath and says, “I mean, it’s happened. I’m not… I don’t think it’ll be a problem. With us. But, um… I guess I’d say that I can’t imagine there being…” Louis steps so close that Harry holds his breath. He says, “If there’s something that makes you happy… Why wouldn’t I be compatible with that?” 

Harry nods as words fail him. 

He reaches for Louis instead, finally cupping his jaw, rubbing his thumb over Louis’ beard, and pulling him into a kiss. 

He can’t help the feeling that he’s postponing the inevitable. 

In Harry’s estimation, it’s postponed for about ten minutes. 

It’s been too long since he’s been properly kissed. In fact, as Louis hums and nips at his lower lip, threading his fingers through the short curls at his nape and tipping his head to better fit their mouths together, Harry thinks perhaps this is the first time he’s been properly kissed. 

Standing between Harry's legs, Louis can only get so close. The stool is in the way. He grips Harry’s thigh and when Harry moans, he slides his hand around to his lower back and under his sweater. 

A part of Harry's brain goes through the closing checklist and he pulls back, panting. “Did you lock up?” 

Louis grins, nodding and dipping back in for another kiss. This one is sweeter. He trails them across Harry’s cheek and his lips brush his ear. “Thank you for giving this a chance.”

“Oh my god I can’t do this,” Harry whispers and Louis jerks away from him, stepping back. “No! No. Not… Come here.” Sliding off his stool, Harry grabs hold of both of Louis’ wrists and holds them in front of his heart. “I… You were being honest with me, like, about your feelings, and I… I’m… There’s something I need to tell you before we… before this goes any further.”

“Oh…” Louis visibly relaxes, making Harry even more anxious. 

“I have a really small penis,” Harry says, voice as steady as he can keep it. 

Louis opens his mouth, closing it again almost instantly. He pouts, frowns, then bites his lip. It’s the first time Harry’s told someone and hasn’t been laughed at. 

“Okay.” Louis nods. Harry’s heard ‘okay’ before.

“So, like, I exclusively bottom,” Harry says. “Guys tend to see my hands and think ‘massive cock’ so I have to, um…”

“Is this… This is why you didn’t want to go out with me?” Louis looks disbelieving until Harry nods. Then he narrows his eyes. “You thought I’d care about the size of your dick?” 

“No, I…” Pinching at his lip, Harry sighs. “I was afraid you would.”

“You know, um… I’m… That hurts, to be honest.” Louis looks away, scratching the back of his neck. “I really care about you, Harry.”

“I’m sorry, I…” but Harry doesn’t know how to explain his fear of seeing that same disappointment on Louis’ face.

“You know what’s funny?” Louis asks and Harry scowls because none of this is funny. “I usually bottom. I mean, I like topping too. Love it. I’m versatile, really, but… People see my ass and want to fuck me. Then they see my dick and they really want to fuck me.” Louis laughs and Harry crosses his arms. “You may not want _me_ to fuck _you.”_

“This is…” This conversation is making him lightheaded. “Are you making fun?” 

“No, no, baby. No,” Louis leans in close and rubs the tips of their noses together. “Just… We may have more in common than we thought.”

“How?” Harry asks, because he’s almost positive that Louis doesn’t have a tiny dick. Though he’s not opposed to the idea, he’s never considered the possibility of dating someone else with a micropenis.

“I’d rather show you, if that’s not too weird?” Louis takes Harry’s hands and pulls him off of his stool. “Like, we don’t have to do anything. We’re just… This is, hopefully, the beginning for us, so we can take it slow.” 

“I… I don’t want to do that,” Harry says, and Louis looks surprised. “Not that I want to, um, jump into bed with you, but it… it hasn’t worked out well for me to wait. In the past, I mean.”

“What if… Do you want to come to my place? Watch a movie or something?” Louis asks, but Harry shakes his head. “Oh, um…”

“I’d rather you come to mine. It’d be more comfortable for me, I think.”

If Harry thought Louis couldn’t be any sweeter, he was wrong. Louis holds his hand like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do, smiling at him while he laces their fingers together, and periodically lifting Harry’s hand to kiss the back of it while they make their way down the sidewalk. They’re both quiet the whole way to Harry’s apartment. Harry can’t help but worry what Louis’ reaction will be when he finally sees him naked. It’s possible he doesn’t believe him. Maybe he should’ve used a different descriptor than ‘really small’ but at the time it was all he could think to say. 

8=•

Harry leads him to his apartment, still holding tightly to his hand until he has to fish around in his pockets for his keys, panicking for a moment that he left them at the restaurant. 

“Sorry for the mess,” Harry says as he opens the door and flips the lightswitch. “I haven’t been—”

“Harry, I don’t care about the mess, babe.” Louis shrugs when Harry looks at him, and he looks so cute, still in his work uniform, grinning hopefully at Harry as if Harry would be the one to reject him. It’s too much.

“I need to shower.” 

“Oh, um…” Louis sniffs his own armpits and Harry snorts.

“You can shower too, if you want,” Harry offers. “You go first. I’ll make sure my bedroom isn’t a disaster.”

“Been sleeping on your couch again?” Louis asks and Harry rolls his eyes. “Thought so.”

While Louis showers and Harry tries not to think about him using his shampoo and soap and smelling like him, he quickly straightens up his room. Thankfully, he changed his sheets fairly recently, and since he really hasn’t slept in his bed in a while, he just pulls the blankets down and fluffs the pillows. There’s a large pump bottle of lube on his bedside table — he might be embarrassed about the fact that it’s half empty, but he has other things to worry about. Specifically, Louis naked in his apartment. 

Louis presses a quick, shower wet kiss to Harry’s lips, and says, “Do you want me to wait on the couch?”

“No, you can, um…” Harry nods towards his room and says, “You can wait in there. I’ll be quick.”

While scrubbing from head to toe, Harry gives himself a silent pep talk. He can do this. They can have sex. It’s not the end of the world if things don’t work out with Louis, even if it might feel that way. 

Most days he avoids even looking at his tiny penis, so he closes his eyes while he dries off, and wraps the towel around his waist to keep it hidden as long as possible. When he walks into his bedroom, Louis is still wrapped in his towel too, and they look like they belong in a gym or something, rather than like two people about to have sex with each other for the first time. 

“I guess, um… the bed?” Harry wonders if there’s a way to distract Louis long enough for him to turn off the lights and sneak under the covers. 

A short laugh seems to take Louis by surprise, and he says, “One of us has to go first, might as well be me.” Unceremoniously, he drops his towel, and Harry gasps. 

“Whoa,” Harry says, unable to look away from Louis’ dick. When he finally does, and meets Louis’ eyes, he finds him looking unsure, chewing his lip, as if waiting for Harry to reject him. “It’s… It’s _impressive.”_

Louis snorts, and says, “Haven’t heard that before, so thanks.”

“Well, I mean, it is.” Harry blinks, but Louis’ dick is still there. It’s gigantic. The biggest dick Harry’s ever seen in real life. Some might say unnecessarily large. Soft, it hangs there, the head halfway down to Louis’ knees. So thick that Harry doesn’t think that even he — with his long fingers and too big hands — can wrap his fingers all the way around it. He forgets about his manners and loses track of time staring at it until Louis clears his throat, and Harry sees that he’s blushing. His chest is blotchy and pink and his blush has already worked its way to his cheeks. Even his ears are pink. 

“Sorry, it’s, um… Like I said, we don’t have to have, um… penetrative sex? Or I can suck you off,” Louis offers hopefully. 

“No,” Harry says with a shake of his head. “I… I like it. I want to, um… It’s big.”

“Yeah, I know. Kind of inconvenient.” Louis sighs and adds, “It gets bigger when it’s hard.”

“Really?” 

Louis nods. “It’s okay, Harry. You don’t have to. I don’t have to fuck you.”

“No, I want you to.” Harry shakes his head at Louis’ obvious disbelief, and opens the bottom drawer of his bedside table, grabbing a condom, and retrieving his box of toys. His favorite dildo is on top, so he holds it up for Louis to see. 

He’s always been a bit of a size queen, though he sometimes feels like he doesn’t have the right to be. So it’s _big,_ glittery purple swirled with silver and black, and he calls it his space dildo because it makes him feel ‘out of this world’. He decides to wait to tell Louis that another day, if he sticks around. 

“You use that?” Louis asks, and when Harry nods, Louis smiles and scrunches his nose. He looks like a rabbit, but again, Harry keeps that to himself.

“Can you close your eyes?” As soon as Harry asks, Louis does it, shutting his eyes tight. Quickly, Harry climbs beneath the blankets, scooting over to make room for Louis and tossing his towel out onto the floor as soon as he’s covered up. He turns off the lamp, and says, “You can open them.”

“Shit, okay. It’s dark,” Louis whispers, but a second later the mattress dips under his weight, and he slides under the sheets next to Harry. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just nervous.”

“Okay, well, like I said, we don’t have to do anything. We can just talk or cuddle or kiss or I can blow you,” Louis says, and the blankets move as he reaches for Harry. 

Harry grabs Louis’ hand and holds it, linking their fingers. “I’ve never had a blow job before.”

“Oh, baby, then you’re in for a treat. I—” 

“No, um… Just… Okay, so it’s small. My dick is really tiny. And I think maybe your idea of tiny, and how small a micropenis _actually is_ are different.”

“Alright,” Louis says, moving closer and softly kissing Harry’s parted lips. “Tell me.”

Taking a deep breath, Harry holds it in for a few seconds before letting it go slowly. “It’s a little less than two inches when it’s hard. About as thick as my index finger.”

“Okay,” Louis responds easily. “Anything else?”

“Um… My balls are small too, but not like, as tiny, if you know what I mean.” They don’t exactly match his little penis. His balls are closer to normal looking, and wouldn’t look out of place with an average sized dick.

“Sounds like the perfect mouthful,” Louis says, and Harry barks a loud laugh.

“You’re too good to be true.” Shaking his head, Harry takes Louis’ hand and guides it down between their bodies. 

Soft, his tiny dick is even smaller, and Harry holds his breath, waiting for Louis to touch it. He cups Harry’s balls instead, rolling them in his palm. His thumb grazes the head of Harry’s little dick, and Louis says, “Want to suck you.”

“Fuck, okay,” Harry agrees. He might as well get it over with, and let Louis see his little penis too. Reaching for the lamp on his bedside table, Harry flips it on and rolls onto his back, pushing the blanket down, and covering his eyes with his hands. 

“Oh…” The bed shifts as Louis moves to kneel beside him, and Harry peeks between his fingers. He whispers reverently, “Baby, I love it.” 

Harry drops his hands, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at Louis admiring his tiny dick. “You do?”

“Yeah, I do,” Louis says, fitting his hand between Harry’s thighs. At the touch, Harry relaxes a bit, and Louis crawls over him, nudging his knee between his legs. When Harry spreads them, Louis shifts up, leaning over him, and Harry lifts up to meet his kiss. He wraps his arms around Louis and pulls him down on top of him, falling back onto the bed. 

For the first time, Harry feels like things with Louis might not end horribly. No one’s ever talked about his tiny dick that way before. He kisses Louis harder, trying to put all of his feelings into it, tasting his mouth and sucking on his lower lip, moaning when Louis does the same to him. 

Louis pulls back, dropping one last quick kiss on Harry’s lips. “Are you gonna let me blow you?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, nodding.

A slow smile spreads across Louis’ face, and he ducks down, kissing Harry’s chin and making him giggle. He leaves a trail of kisses over Harry’s Adam’s apple, the hollow of his throat, down his chest and stomach before sitting up, and reaching for Harry’s nipples. Thumbing over them, he says, “Sensitive?” 

Harry hums, arching into Louis’ touch when he pinches and twists. He gasps when Louis switches his attention to the two smaller nipples, bending down to lick and nibble on them, blowing on them while he continues to play with the other ones. 

Sitting up again, Louis asks, “Anything you don’t like?” 

“No? I don’t know?” Harry pouts. 

“Okey dokey,” Louis says, and Harry laughs. 

“Did you just say—”

“Yes. Now be quiet while I…” Louis shuffles backwards, kissing Harry’s belly button, his happy trail, and finally the tip of his little dick. 

“Oh god, oh…” 

Louis grips Harry’s tiny cock with his thumb and one finger, and licks the head, making Harry jerk away from the new sensation. 

“Not good?” Louis asks. 

“Good, good. Almost too good,” Harry says, reaching down to brush Louis’ hair off his forehead. 

Wiggling his eyebrows, Louis lowers himself down and sucks Harry’s tiny dick between his lips. Harry gasps, tightening his hand in Louis’ hair, but Louis loosens Harry’s hold, tangling their fingers together instead. 

He takes Harry’s dick back into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head, then pressing it against the roof of his mouth. Tightening his lips around it, he bobs his head, sucking hard until Harry's balls start to feel heavy and tight. 

“Louis, stop,” Harry says, barely breathing. When Louis pulls off, looking at him questioningly, Harry grabs the bottle off his bedside table, bending his knees, moving his balls out of the way with the other hand and pumping lube onto himself, shivering as the cool liquid drops down his crack. 

“Holy shit,” Louis says, but he does what Harry thought he would, catching the lube with his fingers and spreading it around Harry’s rim and up and down his crack. He laughs, kissing Harry’s inner thigh. “You’re a mess.”

“Not yet, but hopefully I—” Harry squeals when Louis pinches his bum, cackling at the ceiling, and tossing aside the lube. His laughter turns to tears as he’s overcome with emotion, happier and more at ease than he’s ever been in bed with another person, or even by himself. For the first time, he feels precious, special, _loved,_ even though Louis hasn’t said as much. 

“Baby?” Louis asks, “What’s wrong?”

Harry shakes his head. “Nothing. Nothing. Promise. I’m just happy.”

“You’re sure?” Louis narrows his eyes, scratching at his beard along his jaw. 

“Yes. I swear.” Wiping his tears away, Harry smiles and pushes Louis hand down between his legs. “Get me ready?”

“You really want me to fuck you?” Louis sits up on his knees, stroking his cock, and Harry’s eyes go wide. Nodding fast, he spreads his legs, holding them behind his knees, preening when Louis groans at the sight. 

Much too gently, Louis pushes a single finger past Harry's rim, but he sucks Harry's little dick into his mouth too, so Harry doesn’t mind if he takes it slow. The wet heat of Louis’ mouth is so incredible that when he fits a second finger inside, Harry finds himself close to the edge, stomach muscles twitching. 

“Louis, please…” Harry bumps his knee against Louis’ side. 

Louis flicks his tongue against the underside of Harry’s tiny cock, and smiles, stretching him with three fingers and keeping them still while his body adjusts and loosens around them. Carefully, he spreads his fingers, slipping his pinky finger in, and Harry pushes back against his hand. 

“I— I’m ready,” Harry insists, letting go of his legs and pushing Louis back with his foot in the center of his chest. 

“Sorry,” Louis says, pulling his fingers free. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

With a smile so big his cheeks hurt, Harry says, “You wouldn’t.”

Stroking himself again, as if Harry could forget about his massive cock, Louis bites his lip. “Not on purpose, but…” 

“Oh, honey, no,” Harry says, sitting up and cupping Louis’ face, coaxing him forward and capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. He never could’ve anticipated that he would be the one to reassure Louis in this situation, and it’s almost enough to make him burst into tears again. 

Louis rests his forehead against Harry's and says, “Might be easier if you ride me.”

“Okay,” Harry whispers, softly kissing Louis again before pushing him down on his back, and swinging a leg over to straddle his lap. “This is, um… a lot more fun than I thought it’d be.”

Clearly affronted, Louis scoffs loudly and digs his fingers into Harry's sides, tickling his ribs, and pinching his love handles, while Harry tries his best to stay upright. He finally catches both of Louis’ hands in his and falls forward, pushing them into the pillow above his head. 

“You’ll have to be still,” Harry says, pleased with how serious he’s able to sound when all he can think about is getting Louis’ cock inside him. When he leans to grab the condom off the bedside table, his tiny dick drags over Louis’ enormous one, and Harry shivers. 

Scooting back, Harry wraps his hand around Louis’ shaft for the first time. He was right; his hand doesn’t completely encircle it. In his effort to do so, he jacks him a few times fast with a tight grip, making Louis gasp and squirm a little. 

After rolling the condom on, Harry reaches for his lube and pumps some into his hand, getting Louis’ dick wet enough that he hopefully won’t have to add more later. Shifting forward, he laughs when he realizes he’ll have to lift up higher, and that it’ll put his arm at an awkward angle. 

“Can you, um…” Harry releases Louis’ cock, and Louis nods, steadying it with one hand and holding Harry's waist tightly with the other, while Harry raises up. Louis’ dick nestles between his cheeks, sliding in the lube as Harry hitches his hips back and forth. It catches on his rim and he gasps, then closes his eyes and lowers himself down until the fat head slips past the tight ring of muscle. 

“Holy shit,” Louis mutters, fingertips digging into the softness of Harry's waist. “You okay?”

Harry nods, humming as he gradually takes more, closing his eyes when he gets about halfway and has to pause. With both hands on Harry’s waist, Louis’ touch is grounding, and he wants to feel him everywhere. Slowly, he breathes in and, as he exhales, he swivels his hips, and inch by inch his body allows the intrusion. 

“Oh god…” Louis slides his hands up and down Harry’s sides. “So tight. Fuck. Are you—” He moans unabashedly when Harry clenches his muscles around him.

“I’m good. Really good,” Harry says, blinking open his eyes. With Louis looking up at him like he’s something wonderful, Harry leans forward, resting his hands on his chest. “Are you okay?”

Louis sputters a laugh, and Harry bounces a little with it, forcing his cock deeper. He squeaks out, “No.”

“No?”

“No, I’m okay. Sorry, just… God, you feel amazing.” Louis rubs circles over Harry's lower back and tips his chin up, pursing his lips, and Harry obliges him with a kiss. 

Sitting back a bit, Harry circles his hips again, and begins to ride him. He lifts up just a little and sinks down, enjoying the stretch and the sting of it. As he adjusts to the feeling, he moves faster, working himself over Louis’ cock. 

“You’re beautiful,” Louis says, brushing Harry's hair off his face. 

Harry pinches Louis’ nipple, making him jerk beneath him. He grunts, and says, “You talk too much.”

With a snort, Louis bends his knees, planting his feet on the mattress. “Thought you wanted me to be still.” Harry shakes his head. “Want me to fuck you?” Harry nods. It’s overwhelming enough, just having Louis inside him. “Like this?” 

“Yeah,” Harry answers, and Louis tightens his grip on him, bucking his hips. He helps Harry lift up, and drops him down over and over, pulling throaty moans from him as his thick cock presses against Harry's prostate relentlessly. 

They find a rhythm, and he meets Louis’ thrusts with all he has, whining when Louis pinches his nipples and doesn’t let go. Harry loses control when Louis wraps his thumb and finger around his tiny dick, stroking it in time as he pistons his hips. 

Heat blooms in his stomach, spreading outward, and his muscles contract and release uncontrollably as his orgasm takes control. His little prick spurts over Louis’ fingers and stomach, and he sobs when Louis slams him down onto his cock and holds him there. Harry rolls his hips, making Louis moan as he comes, filling the condom. 

Gently — and Harry’s grateful for it this time — Louis helps him up, and Harry lays down on his stomach with a sigh. He’s going to sleep like the dead. 

“I’ve never been fucked like that in my life,” Harry mumbles into his pillow, turning his head to watch Louis clamber out of the bed to dispose of the condom. 

“Good?” Louis asks, wiping the come from his stomach with one of the towels from the floor. Harry hums and nods as Louis gently cleans between his legs, but avoids the tender areas. 

“The best. You’re the best,” Harry says, and he means it. “So glad we’re closed tomorrow. Won’t be able to walk.”

Louis lays down beside him, trailing the tips of his fingers over Harry’s spine. “Hey, so are—” Both of their phones ping loudly almost simultaneously. “Weird.”

“Yeah…” Harry reaches for them both where they sit on the bedside table, tossing Louis’ to him. “Oh my god.”

“Sounds about right,” Louis says, hopping out of bed and grabbing his clothes. “If it’s okay, I’ll run down there, and come back here after?”

“Please,” Harry says, burying his head in the pillow. 

Hopefully Niall isn’t too pissed off that they locked him in the restaurant. 

8=•


End file.
